Page 5 of The Forbidden Love of an Officer (The Marlow Family #7)

Paul handed her into the carriage. She climbed the single step then slipped inside.

Once her hand left his, he reached into his pocket for a small bag of coins.

He looked at the groom beside him and then to the other two who stood in the yard.

‘For your silence.’ He passed it to one to share out among the rest. He could ill afford it and it would be no guarantee, yet he did not want Pembroke warned.

He had not said who she was, but she had the distinctive Pembroke colouring and beauty, with her dark hair and very pale blue eyes. She would not be forgotten.

‘Thank you, Captain.’ The man pulled his forelock and the others bowed their heads as Paul glanced at the postilion rider and the man on the carriage’s box.

The small carriage would be steered by the rider on the front right of the four horses, the second man was so they could change over and keep going through the night, so one could sleep while the other rode the lead horse.

With a nod Paul climbed up into the carriage.

The moment he closed the carriage door, the carriage lurched forward.

Even before they left the silent village, shrouded in its blanket of night, the postilion rider had upped the pace into a gallop, not at all heedful of the frosty track as the carriage bounced over the hardened muddy ruts.

‘We must make haste,’ he had told the drivers three dozen times before he had left to fetch Ellen. It seemed they had heard his words.

‘We are going to be mightily bruised by the time we reach Gretna,’ Paul said.

There was that wonderful laugh again which stirred something incredibly masculine in his soul – an instinct to gather her up and protect her.

He lifted his arm. She slotted beneath it, pressing close to his side.

And there was that ache in his chest and his groin again.

Ellen . He could see her face clearly in the lamplight which glowed within the carriage. Beautiful. Perfect. Flawless.

His arm around her, and her warmth clutched against him, he began explaining.

‘It should take us about three days, I think; maybe less if we are lucky with the roads and the weather. Then after Gretna we shall travel to Portsmouth. From there we will sail with my regiment. I’ll purchase the things you’ll need as a soldier’s wife in Portsmouth.

You shan’t be able to carry much, there is a need to travel light, but we can spare you more than a single bag of clothing. ’

He couldn’t see her smile, but it was in the press of her hand against his greatcoat over his chest and the stir of her cheek against his shoulder.

He would love this woman for the rest of his life.

He knew it. ‘Come now. Let us take off our outdoor things and use the blankets, then you may sleep a little, if the road is not too rutted.’ He moved, letting her rise, and she set her feet on the hot bricks the inn had put on the floor and took off her bonnet, cloak and gloves.

He took off his gloves too and gripped her hand as she moved back beside him, spreading the blanket over them.

It was even more intimate than before, holding her naked hand, skin against skin – their first physical contact without the boundary of clothing.

‘Ellen, you need not fear me. I shall not press you. We will be travelling day and night. I shall not ask you to do anything with me until we are man and wife. If you change your mind…’ He would not want to let her go, but if she wished to return to her father then he would take her back.

‘I will not change my mind. I wish to marry you.’ The answer rang with vehemence as she sat up and glanced at him, her eyes bright and determined. Yes, she had a core of iron. She would survive. ‘I love you.’

Those words… He smiled. They had shared them for the first time a fortnight ago.

It had been the first time he had spoken them, and the first time he had heard a woman say them to him.

But the feeling was true, it was in his blood and bones.

‘I love you, also, Ellen. And I shall make you happy. I swear it.’

* * *

When Ellen woke, her head rested in Paul’s lap, and the weight of his hand lay on her shoulder. She sat up, blushing. ‘Sorry.’

He was awake. He had been looking out the window but now he looked at her and smiled – that kind, warm smile she had become used to in the summer. ‘It is of no matter, Ellen. You were tired.’

She smiled too. ‘Yes. Did you sleep?’

‘A little.’

‘Where are we?’

‘Close to High Wycombe.’

It had been foolish to ask. She had no idea where High Wycombe was, or how far that meant they had travelled.

His smile opened and his eyes glowed. ‘We are the other side of London, eight or nine hours away from your father’s estate.’ It was as though he had read her mind, or perhaps her expression.

Her stomach growled, and she pressed her hand over it, blushing again.

A humorous sound came from his throat. ‘Are you hungry?’

‘Yes.’ She nodded, her smile quivering. She had felt a closeness between her and Paul, which had begun in the summer and gathered through their letters, but now awkwardness hung between them because she knew very little of him in the flesh, only his written words.

‘We will stop at the next inn. But we cannot stop for long. We need to make sure we keep ahead if your father follows.’

A knot tied in her stomach as Paul leaned forward to open a slim hatch and shout up to the man on the box. ‘We wish to stop at the next coaching inn!’

If her father followed, she would be in trouble. He would never forgive her for this. But she was not sure he would follow; there were her sisters. He had never shown any sign he cared for her. Perhaps he would decide to wait until Penny came of age, and let Penny take Ellen’s place.

Guilt rushed in. What if Penny had to endure the fate Ellen had run from, and marry the Duke of Argyle? It would be Ellen’s fault. But she could not regret this – because she was not running from – she was running to . She could never choose to give Paul up.

Paul sat back in the seat, and his fingers lifted and tucked a lock of her hair that had fallen from the pins behind her ear.

She smiled, sitting back, and tried to re-pin her hair without a mirror.

His fingers touched beneath her chin. ‘You need not pin it, you look beautiful if a little tussled by a bumpy carriage ride.’ She laughed, but she still re-pinned it, and touched it to feel if it was in place.

The carriage jolted over a deep rut as it turned off the road, sending her off balance and toppling her backwards.

In an instant he had caught her upper arm in a firm grip, holding her steady.

She smiled, warmth and emotion running through her blood.

He would take care of her now. Moisture clouded her vision.

‘Are you well?’ His expression said he thought she was injured in some way.

She smiled, swallowing back the emotion in her throat.

‘Yes.’ She leaned forward and hugged him, aware her breasts brushed against his chest through their layers of clothing.

This was only the second time she had held him, held any man.

He kissed her temple a moment before she pulled away and her heartbeat thumped.

The carriage slowed, and through the window Ellen saw a row of thatched cottages, then they were turning into a courtyard.

‘Come, let us get you some refreshment.’ Before the carriage had even stopped, Paul opened the door, and when it did he knocked down the step and lifted a hand to help her out.

When they returned to the carriage less than half an hour later, refreshed and more awake, Ellen let Paul hand her in as he’d handed her out. She did not feel guilty about making him stop because the drivers had changed the horses while they had eaten.

The carriage lurched as they pulled off into a canter.

The ground was still frozen which meant the lanes were passable, but the frozen ruts cast by previous carriages in the mud-strewn tracks made the journey bumpy.

The day was freezing, but new hot bricks had been placed inside at the inn, and Paul drew the blankets around them.

‘Come here, let me hold you, then you will not be so thrown about by the rough track.’

She smiled, sliding to sit against him. Her thigh pressed against his and his arm lifted so she might slot beneath it. He was warm and solid. Dependable.

She rested her head against his shoulder but his palm touched her cheek and his head turned and he kissed her, gently at first as she tilted her neck to better receive it.

But then he kissed her more ardently as he parted his lips and brushed the seam of hers with the tip of his tongue, in a silent command that implied, open your mouth .

She did, and then… Heavens . His tongue slipped into her mouth searching and exploring. Paul .

Her hands instinctively clung at his shoulders as her tongue circled about his. She could not breathe. He had lit a flame which melted her heart as though it were wax, and it dripped into her blood.

He kissed her for a long while, his hands either side of her waist, a gentle, secure pressure.

Then a hand came up to the back of her head, steadying her as for a moment his tongue pressed deeper into her mouth before he broke the kiss.

Her stomach somersaulted as she looked into his eyes; their blue was the same colour as the winter sky outside the carriage. His lips tilted in a half-smile, a dimple denting his cheek.

Heat flared under her skin as she blushed. She had not known kissing could be like that. What would come next? Images spun through her head as she imagined their wedding night.